


Patience

by thievinghippo



Series: Sonya Shepard [9]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Roleplay, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-26
Updated: 2013-09-26
Packaged: 2017-12-27 16:44:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/981252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thievinghippo/pseuds/thievinghippo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Garrus had other ideas.  If she wanted to role-play, they would <i>role-play.</i>  All he needed was patience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Patience

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this prompt from the kmeme:
> 
>  
> 
> _Femshep and Garrus indulge in a little bit of role playing... as their alter-egos Alison Gunn and Archangel. Alison Gunn has been a naughty, naughty merc and Archangel needs to teach her a lesson. Bonus for domGarrus. And spanking..._
> 
>  
> 
> And I need to give a HUGE thank you to [theherocomplex](http://archiveofourown.org/users/theherocomplex/pseuds/theherocomplex)for her help with this story. Her beta work and cheerleading helped immensely!

There were many words that could be used to describe Garrus Vakarian. Loyal. Fighter. Comrade. But the word Garrus himself preferred was _patient._

To be expected of a trained sniper, really. Two dozen confirmed kills during his time in the turian military. Once he and his team had to wait out three weeks for a target, all taking turns spotting, guarding or sleeping. It was his name next to the kill.

Take Shepard, for example. Once he realized that what he felt for her was more than friendship, he hatched a plan. After simple reconnaissance proved that she was attracted to him as well – biometrics don’t lie – he laid the groundwork. 

It was a straightforward plan. He mentioned he wasn’t exactly sure how to deal with a suicide mission on a human ship. She asked the obvious follow up how turians handled high stressed missions. His response? An innocent tale, making it quite clear he had no issues mixing stress relief and sex. Or sparring, in case her reaction was not one of lust, but of violence. 

Instead of taking the bait like he hoped she would – because goodness knows, Shepard was _stressed_ , she stood up, and said, “Thanks for the talk, Garrus.” But the smirk that danced across her lips gave him all the information he needed. Shepard knew exactly what he wanted and she wasn’t going to make it easy for him. 

Spirits, he loved that woman.

If Shepard wanted him to work for her affection, he would. Alone together in the elevator? He stood a step closer than necessary. A drink together off duty? He asked if he could touch her hair. So when she came to the battery and asked if he had a minute to talk, Garrus was ready. 

Or he thought he was, at least. When she actually said the word ‘tie breaker,’ his reaction wasn’t nearly as smooth as he hoped it would be. Or when the reality of the situation kicked in and he realized that out of all the people on the ship that wanted her, and there were many, she chose _him._ And the less that was said about their conversation where she made it absolutely clear that she wanted him the better. Closer to home, indeed.

Now, she _was_ home. 

A week or so after their reunion on the _Normandy_ – and damn, six months was a long time not to feel her fingers on his waist – they curled up on her bed, idly touching each other, letting their heart rates return to normal. They started talking about sex, what they liked, what they'd done, what they'd like to do in the future...

Garrus knew that people made certain assumptions about the sexual aspect of their relationship. She was his superior officer, after all, and more than a few people assumed that translated into the bedroom as well. Hell, the ninth platoon on Tuchanka chided him when Shepard was out of earshot. He let them only because of the losses they had just endured.

And sure, Garrus understood there were moments Shepard needed the reminder that she was _Commander Shepard_ , when she made it clear that he was to follow her orders to the letter or face the consequences. Of course he disobeyed every so often. Her punishments never lacked in creativity. 

Then there were nights when he wanted, no, _needed,_ to take control. When he would force her to her knees, making Shepard take every inch of him in her mouth. Her choking and gagging noises were like mana. Garrus never worried if she was enjoying herself; he knew she was, by the way her hands grabbed his ass, trying to take him in even deeper. 

But he would admit, his favorite times were when neither one of them took control. They worked best as a team, after all. Those were the nights they'd fuck all over her cabin, taking turns on who was on top, never settling until they were both ready to come. 

Garrus couldn’t remember who mentioned fantasies first, but once the notion was out there, neither one of them could stop talking. 

When Shepard brought up the idea of role-playing, Garrus could actually feel the seeds being planted in his brain. Of course, Shepard implied innocent scenarios, a first date, strangers, that sort of thing. 

Garrus had other ideas. If she wanted to role-play, they would _role-play._

All he needed was patience. 

He started laying the groundwork only a few days later. He innocently mentioned to Shepard that he wrote a new chat program for them, one that they could use as a backup, if needed. She let him install it into her omni-tool without a second thought. Garrus didn’t mention that her username was ‘alison gunn’ and his was ‘archangel.’

There was something to be said about having an alter-ego. 

A few weeks later, Garrus could tell Shepard needed a pick me up. She hadn’t forgiven herself yet for what happened on Utukku with Grunt. _He defeated them, Garrus. He lived. We should have stayed and fought with him. I was his Battlemaster, and I left him to die to save myself._

That’s when he sent the first message. 

_Ms. Gunn,_

_The article in_ Badass Weekly _caught my attention. Consider yourself on notice._

_Archangel_

Oh, he wished he could have been in the room when she read the message. Did she smile? Did she even remember that secondary chat program? Was she confused? Hopefully turned on? 

For the next couple of days, Garrus waited, hoping he'd receive a response. But then the genophage was cured and damn Cerberus tried to take over the Citadel, and Garrus thought maybe his message was simply swept to side. Understandable, really, when there were so many more important things to do.

But when they were on their way to meet the Migrant Fleet, his omni-tool told him ‘archangel’ had a message. Alone, in the battery, he opened it.

_Archangel,_

_I don’t take kindly to threats. Speak plain or don't waste my time._

_Gunn_

His plates started spreading immediately. Garrus glanced at the clock. 

_Was going to be a long five hours before the end of shift._

~~~~~

After Admiral Koris' rescue, Garrus spent the evening in Shepard’s cabin - she was busy in the war room - trying to figure out the perfect response to ‘alison gunn’s’ message. It took longer than he planned; he was still wired from the mission and couldn’t keep his talons off his sheath and cock. 

Once the tension drained from his body, Garrus was able to think clearly. He started to craft a message, but then his omni-tool told him ‘archangel’ already had one. Curious, Garrus brought up the interface. 

_Archangel,_

_Pissed off the wrong people. Willing to discuss a trade. Information for protection._

_Gunn_

And even though he was spent from his solo session, Garrus felt his plates spreading. He couldn’t keep the grin off his face if he tried. Shepard was so eager to move things forward with their little game that she wasn’t even willing to wait for a reply from 'archangel.'

He leaned his head back, closing his eyes, and wrote a reply in his mind. A day or two would pass before he would send it, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t write a draft. 

But then Garrus heard the door to the cabin open. Shepard strode in, throwing her boots on the ground. He smirked; that meant she so impatient to be naked she took her boots off in the elevator. 

Garrus spread his arms across the back of the couch and watched Shepard deliberately take her time removing her clothes. He was already naked from before, and his cock slid out easily as she settled in his lap without either one of them having said a word. 

Tonight they were just Shepard and Vakarian and as she wrapped her arms around his neck, there was no one he’d rather be.

~~~~~

Two days later, Garrus found himself in the battery, listening in on the ground team as they worked to destroy the geth server. Shepard was really going to do it. She was really going to let herself be plugged into the geth consensus. 

_Her mind had been violated over and over these past couple of years and she was willing to just do it again?_

One of these days Garrus would have to face the facts. He was in love with a madwoman. 

Needing to distract himself from the silence overwhelming the com while Shepard did… whatever she was doing, he brought up his message interface on his omni-tool. They'd be making a stop at the Citadel before the final attack on Rannoch began. And Shepard did mention that they would be there over night…

Before he could change his mind, Garrus booked a hotel room in one of the nicer areas of Bachjret Ward. Even the nicer areas there were a bit run down. A perfect place for Archangel and Alison Gun to meet. 

Then he sent 'alison gunn' a message with the location and time of meeting as the only text. Garrus smirked to himself, picturing Shepard checking her messages in the shuttle on the way back. 

Her voice rang out over the com and Garrus let himself truly breathe since she was plugged into the consensus. A touch of jealousy burrowed its way under his skin. Those geth had shared her mind, the way Liara, Shiala and even David Archer had. Joined with her in way he never could. 

He went back to his work. 

Thankfully his foul mood was interrupted quickly when his omni-tool told him 'archangel' had a new message. He grinned; that was fast, even for her. Shepard really needed to learn the value of patience. 

The message was only one word: _Agreed._

~~~~~

“You okay?” Shepard asked, sliding her arms around his waist. They were in the battery with the door closed, so Garrus brought his brow down to hers. Garrus had thought Hackett was a fool, sending Shepard to a refinery. But with so many dead, and the mess they found, for once her talents weren’t wasted by his usual errands. 

“A hundred and seven turians, EDI said,” he muttered. 

She hugged him tighter; through his armor, he didn’t feel much but the pressure was what he needed. Garrus hated fighting marauders. Not for his sake – Garrus knew any turian-turned-marauder would rather be killed than continue to be a tool – but for Shepard’s. He didn’t miss the way her eyes would seek him out after she killed one, almost to confirm he was still there, that he hadn’t become one of _them._

“We’ll be at the Citadel soon,” Shepard said. She bit her lower lip. “Will… will I see you there?”

Every time Garrus thought he reached the boundaries of his love for her, she did something like this, and his heart swelled even further. She was asking if he still wanted to meet tonight. He could tell that she would bear no ill will if he didn’t. 

But he wanted. He needed a night where he could forget. A night where he didn’t have to be Garrus Vakarian, Expert Reaper Advisor. A title which seemed more and more futile with each passing day. A title which was becoming a burden, and Garrus didn’t need any more burdens, not when he was determined to help Shepard carry hers. 

He forced himself out of that line of thought and focused on Shepard. Placing his hands on either side of her neck, he brought his mouth plates to her lips. “Yeah, I’ll see you there.”

They were quiet for a moment. As Shepard changed the subject, talking about that Kakliosaur skull they found, Garrus peeked at her biometrics through his visor. Once he read them, and saw that her heart rate was up, along with her body temperature, it was hard to keep the smirk off of his mandibles. 

It was going to be a damn good night.

~~~~~

Garrus rolled his neck, trying to get some of the kinks out of his shoulders. He was wearing his secondary armor - navy blue with gold trim, along with his old sigil - which wasn’t nearly as broken in as his main set. Supposed that meant he really should wear this armor out into the field more, in case something ever happened to the other set. 

He had a few minutes before Shepard – no – Alison Gunn would arrive. Time enough to make sure everything was ready. The hotel room was perfect. Bland and neat, with only a bed and desk. The bathroom was tiny, not even a tub, just a shower. His weapons, save a pistol at his waist, were in the small closet. 

Garrus grabbed the desk chair and placed it in the corner. Here, he would be the first thing Alison Gunn saw as she walked into the room. Taking his pistol in his hands, he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. 

He tried thinking about the good days of Archangel. The days when an op went exactly as planned and the squad gathered afterwards in the base, drinking, eating and dancing. Those days, when he led the squad out in the field, he felt invincible. 

He missed them.

Sidonis was still on the Citadel; Garrus saw him once, talking to Tactus. Apparently he was helping out the refugees and thankfully knew enough to stay out of Garrus' way whenever the _Normandy_ was docked. 

Garrus could still picture the perfect rage he felt when Shepard had stepped into his scope. How for a fraction of a second, he wanted to shoot her - just in the knee, enough to bring her down and give him a clear shot of Sidonis. How he saw a fledgling standing to the side as he sighted his target and not even caring how witnessing a murder might affect a child.

His fury had sharpened the details of that day. Time and acceptance eventually wore them down. And now? More than a year later? He was glad Sidonis was alive. He didn't want to be the only one left to remember his team. 

He hoped to tell Shepard of them, someday. She knew his squad had numbered at twelve, but she didn't know how Krul brought fresh flowers to the base every week, no matter how badly the others teased him, simply because he loved the smell. He'd tell her how Vortash was painfully shy until he stepped on the battlefield and then nothing save a bullet could shut him up. Or the night when Sensat got completely shit-faced and felt it was his duty to gather up the squad and explain salarian mating rituals. 

Someday he'd tell her, then she could remember with him. 

Bowing his head, Garrus closed his eyes. He reminded himself of the word which would halt any activity if spoken aloud. He locked his helmet in place and leaned back in the chair, looking like he didn't have a care in the world. 

Garrus felt himself slip into the role of Archangel like a second skin. And Archangel had no mercy for mercs like Alison Gunn. He would take her information then decide what to do with her. 

There was a knock on the door. Archangel lifted his pistol and waited for Alison Gunn to walk into the room.

~~~~~

Archangel watched as Gunn slipped into the room with barely a sound. Her hand was at her waist, lingering at her pistol. 

"I don't think so," Archangel said roughly. "Hands up. Now."

Gunn rolled her eyes and kept her hands where they were.

He pointed his pistol directly towards her chest. "Don't make me ask again."

"Fine," Gunn said, sounding bored as she dropped her pistol. She put her hands behind her head. "Happy?"

Archangel looked her over. She wasn't wearing armor, which surprised him. Instead, she was clad in a black dress with a high back collar. A silver necklace with a pendant nestled at her throat. 

He realized his eyes had been lingering at her waist. Looking for concealed weapons, he told himself. There was plenty of room in that getup. 

"Don't move," he said, standing up from the chair. Archangel walked slowly towards her, ready for any sudden moves. She was still. 

When he was not even a foot away, he kicked her pistol underneath the bed. Gunn opened her mouth, presumably to protest, but Archangel grabbed her hips, turned her around and pushed her body against the door, resting his body weight on her torso.

"Wait a min-"

He covered her mouth with one hand while the other slipped under her dress to begin the search for concealed weapons. He took his time at her waist. And especially when he reached the inside of her thighs. No telling what she could be hiding there. 

Gunn started wiggling against him in protest as his hand slid further up her thigh. Once Archangel was convinced she was clean, he let her go, his hand going back to his pistol holster. 

"Asshole," she spat. She jerked her head towards the bed. "That was the only piece I brought."

"You expect me to trust a merc?" Archangel said. "Hands behind your back."

"Oh, I don't think so," Gunn said, her face contorting with anger. She started to reach for the door. 

His pistol was out before she could blink, caressing the underside of her jaw. "You really think you can just leave, Ms. Gunn?"

Her jaw clenched as she stared into the visor of his helmet. The visor was tinted dark, so he knew she couldn't see any part of his face. "Gonna keep me here against my will, Archangel?"

He pushed Gunn against the door again, trapping her with his body. With a practiced ease, he took a pair of omni-cuffs, maneuvered her arms behind her back and slapped the cuffs around her wrists. "I'm warning you, Ms. Gunn, you don't want to be my enemy."

"And why's that?" she asked slowly. 

"They have a way of dying."

Her lips twitched, and for a moment she looked like was trying not to laugh. "I think I may have heard that somewhere," she said finally, mirth gone from her face. "Are you going to listen to what I have to say or not?"

Archangel grabbed her shoulder and walked her over to the desk chair. "Sit," he ordered.

"Or?"

"I make you sit."

With a sigh, she sat down on the chair, crossing her right leg over her left. Her dress rode up a bit, giving him a good view of her thigh. He caught himself staring and forced himself to look at Gunn. There was a smirk on her face that he tried to ignore. 

"I've got information on the Blue Suns-"

Archangel held up his hand. "Ms. Gunn, if your information is about the Blue Suns, Eclipse or Blood Pack, you're out of luck."

Her eyes grew wide. "What do you mean?"

"They're untouchable," he ground out, gritting his teeth. When he had heard the news... it had not been a good day. Damn Reapers. "They may be mercs, but they take their orders from the Alliance right now. You can't give me anything of value about them."

Gunn looked down at the floor. She was silent. Archangel crossed his arms over his chest, waiting patiently for her to speak. 

"On Omega. The Talons, I can tell you-"

He laughed cruelly. "You really are behind the times, Ms. Gunn. The Talons are the good guys. They've done what I wish I could have. I want them to succeed. So unless your info directly benefits them, it's no good to me."

She started looking around the room, her eyes wild. Archangel could tell she had no other information to offer. He sighed dramatically. "If that's all..."

"Wait!" 

Gunn slowly uncrossed her legs. She leaned back in her chair, spreading her legs slightly. "There are... other things I'm good at."

Archangel leaned up against the wall, far enough away where he could almost see up her dress. "I'm listening." 

"Information isn't the only thing I'm willing to trade for protection," she said, looking up at him, her mouth slightly open. "I'll have you know that I can be _very_ generous to my friends."

Behind his plates, Archangel felt his cock jolt to life. He knew exactly just how long it had been since someone's hands other than his own had held his cock. Longer than he liked. Her offer was... intriguing. 

"How do I know this isn't a setup?" he asked. 

"There are people who want me dead," Gunn said, sounding a bit desperate. "They're on the Citadel right now. Killing you does me no good. Do you really think I'd come to you if I had other options?"

He considered her words. If what she said was true, he was the only hope she had. "I think a demonstration is in order before I make any decisions."

"Uncuff me and you won't regret it," Gunn said. Her eyes were bright, eager almost. She leaned her head back, exposing her throat to him. His cock, hard and already past its sheath, bumped against his armor uncomfortably. 

"The cuffs stay on, for now, I think," he told her. 

Her eyes narrowed and she lowered her jaw, restricting his view of her neck. "That limits my generosity."

He walked over to her slowly, unlatching the codpiece of his armor. "I have a feeling, Ms. Gunn," he said as he threw the codpiece to the floor, "that we can find a way to make it work."

Gunn licked her lips as he adjusted his cock so it could slide through the slit in his undersuit. He met her eyes through his helmet's visor and felt the temperature in the room rise. 

"Yeah," Gunn said as she leaned forward, her lips brushing the tip of his cock. "Definitely."

He watched as her lips parted wide as she leaned forward, taking him in her mouth. The sudden heat made him hold back a groan as he turned off his helmet's microphone. Gunn didn't need to hear how she was affecting him. 

Her mouth surrounded his cock, her tongue caressing the bottom, while his tip rubbed against the roof of her mouth. And her eyes didn't leave his face as she ever so gently moved her head, letting him feel the inside of her cheeks along with the solidity of her teeth. 

He didn't even try to hold back his moan when she pulled back as she took her tongue and slowly licked from the base of his cock to the tip.

Without thinking he took a step forward, giving Gunn better leverage, since she didn't have the use of her hands. She took him in her mouth again and started to suck. The wetness of her mouth was cooler than he expected, though the sensation was certainly not unwelcome. 

His talons gripped his pistol, secure in its holster at his waist, when she swallowed against him. Fuck, this felt good. Archangel leaned back his head, letting it rest on his cowl. He closed his eyes and just basked in the sensation as she worked his cock. This was a feeling he was going to want again. And again. 

He started thrusting lightly when he felt her hands massaging the sheath on either side of his cock. She somehow knew exactly what he wanted. 

_Wait._

Her hands...

Archangel stepped back immediately and pulled out his pistol. His cock protested at the sudden loss of heat and suction. For her part, Gunn simply crossed her legs and placed her hands demurely in her lap. 

"I'm an engineer. You really think a pair of omni-cuffs can hold me?" she said with a smirk. "Or did they not cover that during your research in _Badass Weekly?"_

He turned his microphone back on. "You had me at your mercy."

Gunn stood up and Archangel kept his pistol trained on her. "I told you, protect me and I'll be in your debt. I always-" She leaned forward, fisting the hem of her dress in her hands. A moment later her dress was on the floor. "-pay my debts." 

She stood in front of him, wearing only a black lace bra and a matching set of underwear And she was all lean, long muscle underneath the tautness her skin. 

"Don't move, understand?" His voice was ragged. 

Gunn nodded as she traced the pendant she was still wearing, bringing attention to the expanse of her throat. 

Archangel took another step back and efficiently removed his armor, leaving his undersuit and helmet on. With his hands now bare, he gave his cock a few strokes. Gunn watched him work intently, breathing with her mouth open. 

"Turn around," he ordered, as he continued to stroke himself slowly. She pouted, but obeyed. 

Before Gunn had a chance to react, Archangel pushed her against the wall, his arm resting across her back and placed her in a hold he knew humans had difficulty getting out of. He tried not to moan when he felt his cock nestle between her legs. 

"What are you-"

"You really think, Ms. Gunn," he said slowly, "that you can come in here and fuck your way out of this?" 

"But I thought if-"

Archangel took his free hand and placed it on her hip. With a talon, he traced the one of the strings of her underwear. "Your smuggling has hurt a lot of people," he told her. "There needs to be some punishment." 

"And you're taking up the mantle? Archangel going to be my judge and jury?" She fought against the hold, but didn't break it. 

"Perhaps," he said, resting the palm of his free hand on her ass, rubbing slow circles. 

Gunn swallowed loudly and rested her forehead against the wall. "If that's what you need to do to trust me..."

"Trust?" He let out a bark of a laugh. He put more pressure on her ass. "Who said anything about trust?"

"Give me time, Archangel. I may actually earn it," she said, pressing her ass ever so slightly into the palm of his hand. 

He brought back his hand and balanced the tips of his talons on her skin. Gunn whined softly as he removed his hand completely. 

Whispering in her ear, he said, "Remember, you deserve this." He took his hand and smacked her ass hard, the sound reverberating in the room. She gasped loudly at the contact. 

Her forehead rested against the wall. "Again," she said, her voice pleading. Her hand moved from the wall to her cunt. 

Part of him wanted to refuse out of spite. She clearly enjoyed her punishment. But then his cock twitched at the sight of redness in the shape of his handprint on her ass. When he palmed her ass again to prepare for another round, Gunn started writhing against him, touching herself. 

_"Please,"_ she moaned. "Please."

"Why?" he murmured.

"Because I've been bad, I've been so naughty," she said, her voice low, breathing hard. "I need to be punished. _Please."_

Archangel thought of all the evil mercs like her had done, just in the name of profit, ruining lives. Good people's lives. He couldn't punish them all. But he could certainly punish her. 

Bringing back his hand, he slapped her ass as hard as he could, so hard his palm hurt. Gunn screamed and threw her head back. She closed her eyes tight, and he could see tears forming at the corners. But they didn't fall. 

"Thank you," she breathed, both hands reaching behind her, grabbing his undersuit, seemingly trying to make any contact with him that she could. "That was just what I... Thank you." 

He released her from the hold he had her in, but neither one of them moved. They were both breathing heavily. His cock was so hard it was almost painful. 

Gunn turned around so that they were looking at each other. Her hands went to his helmet. "I want to see your face," she whispered. 

"Not yet," he growled back, leaning her against the wall. She hooked a knee over his hip with a practiced ease. "Been with a turian before, I take it? Another _friend?"_

"None of your damn business," she said, using her leg to pull him in close.

A talon brushed her clit as he moved her underwear to the side. Gunn moaned loudly as she pulled on his cowl, trying to leave no room between them. Archangel bent his knees just slightly and with a jerk, entered her warmth. He stayed still for a moment, reveling in the heat of her cunt. But then she clenched around his cock and he had no choice but to start moving. 

"I'm so close," Gunn said, her voice breathless. He didn't doubt it. She enjoyed her punishment a bit too much. And as he thrust, feeling his cock throb, Archangel knew he needed out of his undersuit and helmet. He wanted skin on skin. He wanted to smell her, to taste her, to touch her. 

His talon found her clit again and started rubbing against it. She pulled him closer, muttering words like 'yes' and 'please' over and over. And then he felt her cunt clamp down around him, her orgasm starting. 

Gunn threw back her head, moaning loudly. Before he could stop himself, Archangel put his hand on her throat, placing just the slightest amount of pressure. She held her breath as he stroked her throat with his talons. 

She clenched around his cock over and over, and he had to bite his tongue to ignore the urge to let go then and there. He wasn't ready to come, not yet, so he kept thrusting as she tightened her arms around him. 

"Oh fuck," she said when her orgasm was over, burying her face next to his chest. She held on to him as if she let go she'd drop straight to the floor. 

Archangel took a step back and his cock twitched when they separated, already missing her wetness. Putting his hand on her arm, he led her to the bed. "Lay down," he ordered. "On your stomach and don't look back."

"But-"

"Can you follow orders, Ms. Gunn?" 

She gave him a grin along with a mock salute as she sat down on the side of the bed. Reaching behind her, she took off her bra and threw it to the floor. Her underwear quickly followed. Her hands were immediately on her breasts, teasing her nipples. 

"I gave you an order." 

Gunn sighed dramatically, turned and got on all fours, crawling slowly to the center of the bed. She knelt there, giving him a beautiful view of her cunt. The lips were parted and flushed and coated with her wetness. His cock only just left and already he felt the need to be back inside her. 

He stripped out of his undersuit as quickly as he could, removing his helmet last. Once completely naked he cracked his neck. She started to turn her head towards the sound. "Don't move or I'll have to punish you again."

She laughed weakly. "That's not an incentive not to move." 

Archangel knelt on the floor at the side of the bed. He grabbed her feet, causing her to gasp as she dropped to her stomach as he pulled her towards him. "Kneel," he told her as he traced the outline of his handprint on her ass with the tip of a talon. Without his helmet, he could see how bright the mark was. He kissed the mark as best he could. The redness was going to be there for a few days. He couldn't help but be slightly pleased at the idea. 

She obeyed, kneeling on all fours again. The angle was awkward, but he wasn't ready to show his face yet. He brought his face right in, close to her cunt. Gunn arched her back and started breathing heavily. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the smell of her sex. 

Closing his eyes, Archangel flicked out his mandibles to tease the back of her thighs. Gunn let out a sound almost between a squeal and a giggle. He flicked his mandibles to hear it again. Then he plunged his tongue deep into her cunt. 

Her hands clawed at the comforter as she took deep breaths. He placed a hand on either side of her hips and started teasing her with his tongue. Entering her briefly, then moving to lick her clit. 

His cock started protesting at being ignored so he took one hand and started stroking. Gunn seemed to realize what he was doing and crawled away from him slightly. 

"Please," she said, her forehead resting on the mattress. "Please, I want to feel you." 

His cock demanded he listen to Gunn. Pushing her forward just a little more, to make sure there was enough room for him to kneel, he got on the bed. Hands on her waist, he entered her warmth again and the noise they made caused him to almost orgasm there and then. Each thrust made the most satisfying sound. She was so wet he had to work not to slide out of her. 

Archangel closed his eyes then. He didn't want to think. He just wanted to feel her cunt around him and listen to her moans, pleas and swears. She started to move with him, moving her hips back in time with his thrusts. 

He was going to come soon. There was a heat roaring in his belly and soon, it would be demanding release. But still he kept thrusting. 

"Please," she said, loud enough that he knew the words were meant for his ears. "I need to see your face." 

And because she let herself be punished, because she eventually followed his orders, Archangel decided to trust her with this. He would show her his face. He slipped out of the warmth of her cunt and went to sit down, leaning against the headboard of the bed. Almost instantly, she was on his lap, straddling him, his hands gripping her waist. Gunn took her hand and eased him back in her. 

Her wetness dripped down his cock, and he felt it even on his sheath. She moved up and down, sitting up straight, her hands on his shoulders. Looking down, he watched her envelop his cock. Her cunt was so tight, Archangel was sure he was stretching her out, making her fit him perfectly. He started to match her pace by thrusting lightly, feeling the need to fill her completely. 

She paused in her movements only momentarily as she grabbed his hands and placed them on her breasts. Incoherent moans trying to form words left her mouth as he alternated between pinching and caressing her nipples. 

He felt her thumbs stroke his mandibles, and he looked up, staring into her eyes. There was nothing there except pure need. They were both so close. So close. She leaned forward and pressed her brow to his. 

"Fuck, Garrus, you feel so good." Shepard's eyes went wide as she straightened. "Crap." 

He wanted to laugh, but couldn't find the energy, unable to focus on anything other than how she felt surrounding his cock. So he tapped her ass lightly, letting her know her slip up didn't matter. They were both ready to come; he wanted to be with Shepard now. 

She clenched down hard around him. "Shepard," he moaned, feeling his orgasm begin at the base of his cock. Garrus thrust once, and let his climax take over. As pleasure coursed through his body, his thrusts became uneven, but Shepard kept up a steady pace, milking him completely. 

He rested his brow on her shoulder, taking hungry breaths. Shepard was starting to whine, so he quickly found her clit and started rubbing, still coming down from the high of his orgasm. She stayed still as he worked; her head leaning down so her cheek rested against his fringe. 

"There," she gasped, her fingers digging into his hide. "Oh god, right there." 

Her orgasm started, and Garrus lifted his head so he could look into her eyes. Her gaze challenged him back, her mouth open as she moaned loudly. "Oh- Ah, Garrus!" 

The first time Garrus watched Shepard come, the night before the Omega-4 relay, had been a breathtaking experience. And every time since, as his feelings for her grew more intense, caused his own emotions to multiply. 

There was the usual sense of pride every time that, yes, _he_ did that. He made Shepard come, made her feel like that. Followed by wonderment, how she truly trusted him enough to let her guard down. But those feelings was generally quickly replaced by an emotion he couldn't name. A sense of gratitude, perhaps, that even for a just a few moments, Shepard was at peace, without the weight of the galaxy on her shoulders. 

He would never tire of watching her. And he would always want one more. 

Her eyes closed once her orgasm was over. They both stayed very still, taking the time to catch their breath. Finally Shepard rested her brow on his. "You're brilliant," she whispered. 

"You, too," he said softly, running his talons lightly up and down her back, causing her to shiver. "You, too." 

Shepard smiled softly as she stretched her arms over her head. She started to reach behind her, but Garrus stopped her, knowing what she wanted. Being careful with his talons, he unclasped her necklace and placed it on the nightstand. 

She got off his lap and Garrus could feel his cock retreating back into its sheath. Garrus lay down on his side, pulling Shepard into his arms so they faced each other. Her body didn't give any resistance and he let out a yawn, feeling absolutely spent. 

"So does this mean you'll protect me?" she asked sleepily, her fingers drawing circles on his carapace. 

Garrus pressed his mouth plates to her neck, feeling her pulse, the rhythm of her life. There was no area more sacred on her body to him than that spot, where he could actually feel the blood coursing through her veins. "Always," he whispered, silently asking the Spirits to make that possible somehow.

She was still then. He waited for her to drift off into sleep. But she then, voice drowsy, she said, "You know, we should try something like this again. Maybe the first date thing."

"Maybe," Garrus said clumsily, tightening his arms around her. Sleep was ready to claim him, but one of his secret joys was watching Shepard fall into slumber. 

"We could go out to a bar," Shepard said, yawning. 

"Let's give it some time," Garrus said. "Don't want to make this commonplace."

"Pretend we can dance..."

"Patience, Shepard," Garrus purred, his mind lit up with possibilities. Sleep could wait. If she wanted to dance, then they would _dance_. "Patience."


End file.
